Lost Highway
by Ellen Smithee
Summary: Damon reaches out to his brother in all the wrong ways. Warnings: Dark!fic, dubious con, compulsion. Pairings: One-sided Damon/Elena, Stefan/Elena.


_Oh, the day we met, I went astray,_

_I started rollin' down that lost highway._

"Lost Highway,"Leon Payne

-o-O-o-

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment and looks at her, taking in the sight of her dark hair gleaming in the sun. At that moment, she turns and-after an almost indiscernible moment of hesitation-smiles. She's wearing the dark sunglasses he bought her at an old gas station in Arkansas or maybe Oklahoma, when he was finally no longer able to bear the vacant look in her eyes.

He snatches her hand and raises it to his lips, pressing a fervent kiss to her palm as he turns back to the road. She doesn't talk much, except to tell him she loves him, and he tells himself prefers it this way as his mind tries not to fill the silences with the words he knows she'd really say to him if she only could. He somehow can't bring himself to compel her further to pretend to be her normal perky self, however, so he's at an impasse. The constant compulsion he's using now strains him as it is-he's had a slight, but constant headache since they left Albuquerque.

It's been days, but still no sign of Stefan, and he wonders if his little brother has lost their trail or if he ever found it at all. No matter. It's about time Stefan hunted him for once, instead of the other way around.

-o-O-o- 

That night in bed she starts weeping quietly, and he pauses mid thrust, surprised to find himself having to concentrate harder than usual to maintain the compulsion. After that, she is silent and quiescent, but he finishes quickly, filled with an uneasy feeling, the sharp pain behind his eyes intensifying blindingly for a moment as he comes before it recedes to a dull pounding.

In the morning, the sensation of falling awakes him and he panics when he finds himself alone in bed. He rolls over with a start, relaxing when he sees her standing by the window, staring into the distance. For the first time, he thinks he sees something in her eyes, and it's almost worse than the blankness. Just as quickly, the impression is gone and he relaxes again.

He gets to his feet and crosses to the room to stand behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. He closes his eyes against the bright sunlight, his head pounding as he struggles to retain control of the compulsion. He wonders why Stefan hasn't found them yet. Isn't he even trying?

With a put-upon sigh, he pulls her closer, putting Stefan out of his mind. She seems to be about to flinch away, but then she melts against him and he knows he was just imagining it, imagining her _revulsion_. And why would she be revolted by him? He's _hot_.

"I love you, Elena," he murmurs. He leans down to nuzzle her cheek. The scent of her blood is calling to him, but he resists. They'll have all the time in the world for that when they reach their final destination. Maybe he'll even let Stefan share if-_when_-he catches up to them.

"I love you, S-" She makes an odd hissing noise at the end of the sentence and then her voice fades out as if she'd lost track of what she was saying. The sound fills him with foreboding, but he pushes it away.

In an hour, they're back on the road and he's forgotten it.

-o-O-o-

In California, he has a house, one he never told Stefan about, so he assumes he has time to prepare before he sees his brother again. He and Elena will be content there, he is certain of it. Maybe he can try to lift the compulsion bit by bit until she is used to being with him. If she doesn't already love him, she soon will, he's confident of that. And when she's ready, he'll change her, and the three of them can be together once Stefan arrives. His little brother wouldn't dare deny him that.

The sun has gone down when they finally arrive. The woods are silent, and that should be the first warning.

Feeling safe for the first time in weeks, he eases the compulsion slightly, and his headache immediately feels somewhat better. He helps her out of the car and escorts her up the steps to the front door. Before he unlocks it, he turns to her and removes the sunglasses, brushing the hair out of her eyes and cupping her face. Her eyes fall closed with a whimper that could be pleasure or fear. He decides it must be the former.

"We're going to be very happy here, Elena," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You'll see."

He opens the door and leads her into the house. Turning on the light, he starts to lead her into the living room, stopping short when he sees Stefan standing by the fireplace. Of course. He should have known. His astonishment shows on his face for a split second before his customary smirk takes over.

"Stefan. What a surprise."

"I know," Stefan gives him a cold look that chills him to the bone. "I'm here for Elena."

"Well, you can't have her. But if you're very, very nice to me, we can share."

"Oh." Stefan raises a brow. "That's where you're wrong, Damon."

There's a movement behind him, but before he can react, someone-Rick, he assumes-is pumping him full of wooden bullets, followed by a stake shot into his thigh, incapacitating him. He cries out in pain as he falls to his knees.

He hears Elena screaming for Stefan as the last vestiges of his compulsion fall away. He doesn't turn to watch, but Jeremy is cajoling her, presumably keeping her out of the line of fire as Rick steps into view and fires another round into his chest. Before he can react, Stefan and Caroline are upon him, putting him in chains and then carrying him down to his cellar. They've been busy little beavers in the days in which he and Elena were rambling across country and they've managed to fashion a cell out of one of the rooms there. They lay him down on the floor and then leave him, shutting and locking the door behind him.

The entire time, Stefan doesn't speak to him or look at him. It's as if he'd ceased to exist for his little brother.

He hears Bonnie's voice intoning a spell, shivering as the magic prickles over his skin, and then footsteps going upstairs, followed by the sounds of cleaning. After a while, they leave.

He's alone.

He waits for days for Stefan to come back, to talk, to scold, to gloat, to say something, _anything_, but his brother never returns. With time, his own body desiccates and turns into a dry shell.

-o-O-o- 

One day-years later, probably, maybe longer, maybe not, but presumably long enough that he has been deemed harmless-he hears footsteps upstairs and then the door of the cellar creaks open.

The chains fall away and then strong arms pick him up and carry him up into the living room. He tilts his head back, a shadow of his former smirk ghosting over his lips, and expects to see Stefan, but the strands of hair that entwine in the fingers of his raised hand are golden, not brown.

"Blondie," he rasps in acknowledgement as she lowers him to the floor. "Stefan?"

Caroline briskly presses an open blood bag to his lips. "Not here. He sent me instead." The look she gives him is somehow full of fondness and disdain and pity all at once. "He said to tell you he's just not that into you."

He closes his eyes against the wave of pain and disappointment and doesn't open them again before she leaves. When she finally does, he hears her talking to someone outside, another vampire, Rick, he notes in mild surprise, and then they're gone before he can even wonder how that came to pass. As they drive off, he realizes he never asked about Elena, but suddenly it seems irrelevant. _She_ seems irrelevant.

After a while, he drifts off and dreams he's back in the gardens of his father's house, playing football with Stefan, who's clutching the ball, laughing as he runs from his older brother, always one step ahead of him, always out of reach.

When he awakes, he discovers Caroline and Rick filled the fridge with blood bags before they left. He tears into them at first, devouring the blood until he's sated. Later, he'll hunt, but right now he just wants to stay in his house and drink. The power is on and the house spotless-he tells himself Stefan was taking care of him while he was entombed, but deep down he realizes Stefan probably just wanted to prevent the curious from investigating the deserted house and finding a starving vampire in the cellar. He pushes the thought away resolutely. Stefan _will_ want to be with his big brother again. This is just a temporary setback.

A number of days passes, he's not keeping track, and the supply of blood bags is exhausted. It's time to leave, and so he's on the road again, going home to Mystic Falls. And if Stefan isn't there now, he will return one day; he always does eventually.

And, when he does, Damon will be waiting.

_Finis_


End file.
